


The Gay Avenger

by type_40_consulting_detective



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Gay Bar, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/type_40_consulting_detective/pseuds/type_40_consulting_detective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I see him across the room, stepping between an aggressive bloke and the man's intended prey. I see him and I'm instantly smitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gay Avenger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeWritingMime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeWritingMime/gifts).



> For my darling[ letalkingmime](letalkingmime.tumblr.com), queen of the cracky fic ideas. Here, finally, is your John the Gay Avenger. 

I wish I could hear the solid thunk of his steel toed boots as he circles the crowd, eyes searching the writhing mass of bodies. Each foot lands in time with the pulsing bass, the only thing that betrays his calm. I’ve watched him far too long, but I can’t take my eyes off him. I don’t think he’s noticed me leaning forward, waiting for him to strike. His head quirks; he’s spotted his prey. It sends a thrill through me, like watching a lion on a hunt. He weaves between the dancing people, and I have to get closer, have to watch. I’m drawn to the side of it, have to watch him this time up close.

Some random Uni prat is grabbing at one of the ladies on the floor, and is following her across the dance floor. /I just want a dance/, he protests, and I can read it on his lips. She shoves him back again before the predator arrives. Slipping between the two of them, his hands grab for the assaulter's hips and he grinds up against him, leaning in to speak into his ear. I can’t read his lips, so I’m left guessing, and the bloke shoves him away and turns to run, cheeks red and fists clenched in anger. The blonde doesn’t turn and take the woman, as she seems to expect him to. He offers her a smile instead and comes back to the outside, several people slapping his back as he goes to the bar for a pint. His last was over an hour ago, so the aim is a light buzz rather than getting off his arse drunk. I’m hit with a sudden burst of bravery, and I sidle up to the bar beside him, ordering a rum and coke.

“Come here often?” I lead with, knowing it’s cheesy as hell, but I seem to be getting the desired reaction as he chuckles and the glee of it lights up his face. As if I wasn’t already arse over teakettle for him. His smile changes his face from attractive to stunning, and I’d do anything on earth to see it again.

“A bit, yeah.” He turns as a petite little blonde comes over and hugs him before running off to her friends.

“Very popular with the ladies?” 

“Not a slag or anything.” His guard is up, and I’ve done it wrong. ”Just come to dance.”

“And you can’t bear to see anyone being messed with, can you?”

“Ah,” he chuckles. “Saw that, did you?”

“Few times.” It’s quiet for a moment, after my admission, and I pick back up the thread of conversation. “Sister or girlfriend?”

“Excuse me?”

“The reason you do this.”

“I’m not here for a confessional, ta.”

“Sorry.” The word feels thick in my mouth. I hardly ever say it, but he has me behaving all kinds of strange tonight. “What do you do when you’re not rescuing young maidens?”

“Med School. And you, my stalker?” His words strike, but the tone is pure flirt and sass.

“Consultant.”

“And what are you consulted on?” His interest is peaked and I’ve got to hold it. Do I dare tell him about the joy I find in puzzling murders? Most call me mad for it; would he?

“Crimes. Consult with Scotland Yard, take on some private cases.”

“All that observing must suit you well then.”

“It does.” Another pregnant pause, but it’s not as uncomfortable as before. He shifts, leans a bit closer, and I accidentally bump into the guy behind me, get pushed forward against him. My hero glares daggers at the bloke who pushed me, and the man slinks off.

“Not just the protector of maidens, then?”

“I’ve been known to save a bloke or two.”

“And dance with them? Besides the ones you’re confronting.”

“Done that, as well. Dirtier than with the little pricks I catch harassing.” John looks up at me through his lashes. “You asking?”

“It’s only fair, after you’ve saved me, Sir Knight.”

“John.”

“Sir John, then. I’m Sherlock.”

He gives me a teasing, little courtly bow and takes my arm. My pulse jumps and I’m suddenly very aware of how close every bit of him is to every bit of me. I can feel the heat coming off him even in this warm club as he turns me to my side and presses in, slotting our hips together and leans up into my ear.

“How dirty would you like it, Sherlock?”

“Absolutely filthy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Beta and verb wrangling by the lovely [EveningSoother](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/pseuds/eveningsoother).


End file.
